


Laurel

by Tolstoyevsky



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Apollo Viktor Nikiforov, Apollo and Daphne Myth, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Eros and Psyche references, F/M, JJ is Zeus because he's the king, M/M, Pining, Post-Trojan War, Wingman phichit, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8871910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tolstoyevsky/pseuds/Tolstoyevsky
Summary: A Viktuuri Greek Mythology AU.Zeus, the king of the gods, declares that all immortals on Mount Olympus must go down to earth and live among humanity for a year so that they can better understand mortals. When Eros, god of love, publicly supports this decree, he is mocked by Apollo, god of light. Humiliated, Eros decides to get revenge by striking Apollo with a golden arrow that will make him fall in love with the first creature he sees. But things do not go according to plan.2/17/18: Updated! <3





	1. Prologue

But every night they fall like dominoes  
How he does it, only heaven knows  
–“Eros and Apollo,” Studio Killers

“Your arrows may strike all things else, Apollo, but mine shall strike you.”  
–“Apollo and Daphne,” Thomas Bulfinch, from Bulfinch’s Mythology

~~~

_Tell me, o Muse, of the decree of Zeus – that the immortals of Olympus, having grown too selfish and arrogant, should descend to earth and live among mortal men for a year._

_Many were the gods and goddesses who protested, but the will of Zeus was adamant. Each would take a mortal name, and while all should continue performing their heavenly duties, none was to reveal their true nature to any earthly creature– or else face the wrath of Zeus._

_Begin with the council of the gods, where Apollo, god of light and archery, spoke against the decree– and Eros, god of love, spoke in favor._

~~~

The council hall on Olympus was filled with raised voices, and Zeus, King of the gods and a pretty intimidating man in his own right, was almost ready to smite someone.

“This is absurd!”

“I can’t live down there–“  


“Mortal name or not, how am I going to do my job without anyone finding out I’m a god?”  


“All right, all right,” chuckled Zeus, sweeping his hand out to quiet the crowd. “We’re going to hold this council in a civilized way.”  


Silence. Hades raised a hand.  


“There we go,” Zeus said cheerfully, turning toward the stoic-looking figure. “Yes, brother?”  


“Zeus, I’m the god of _death_. I don’t think you want me living among the mortals. Besides, someone needs to watch over the underworld; I can’t do that from above ground.”  


Zeus paused, stroking one of his eyebrows thoughtfully. “…You’re right. Very well, Hades is excused.”  


A chorus of shrieks rose up from the crowd.  


“ _What?_ ”  


“Cease!” Zeus boomed. “For immortals whose role is to watch over the earth, you are all surprisingly reluctant to dirty your _chitons_. You have grown complacent, living here on Olympus. You do your jobs lazily and care little for mortal life, not to mention each other. Let me be very clear with you: I agreed to this council so we could discuss the terms of my decree, but _no one else_ is getting out of it.”  


Poseidon cleared his throat, gurgling angrily from the seat next to Zeus.  


“Nope. You can live as a merman, can’t you?”  


He glared at Zeus from beneath his long eyelashes before slumping down into his seat, defeated.  


“Also, any god or goddess who participated in the Trojan War must follow this decree. We’re not going have another one of those.”  


To Zeus’s left, Hera was tapping her foot impatiently, arms folded across her chest.  


“What about me?” asked the Queen of the gods.  


He glanced to her, looking almost playful. “What about you?”  


“Do I have to participate in this rustic activity as well?”  


“Of course. Don’t worry, my lovely Hera. I’ll go down to earth with you.”  


“You certainly will,” she said, gaze narrowed. “I’m not letting you cavort around with all sorts of mortal women–“  


Zeus cleared his throat. “Is there anyone else who wishes to speak?”  


Amidst the hushed complaints of the crowd, one god stepped forward. He was tall and lithe, with cold blue eyes that belied his warm aura, and hair brighter than the white-hot sun on a summer’s day.  


“My lord,” he intoned, giving a shallow bow.  


Zeus nodded. “Apollo.”  


“With the greatest respect, I do not believe that we are all so blinded by our immortality that we have forgotten what it means to be human. Yes, some of us carry out our duties from Mount Olympus, but many of us descend to earth regularly. We have interacted with mortals and formed bonds of friendship with them.”  


“Bonds that are not dependent on your being gods?”  


Apollo hesitated, his lips quirking up into a weak smile.  


“Would they have been friends with you, had they not known that you, the god of light, have given them music, poetry, medicine, and knowledge?”  


He said nothing, his gaze downcast.  


“Or that you, god of archery, could destroy them in an instant?” Zeus snapped his fingers, to get the point across, and the sound resounded throughout the busy hall.  


“I am uncertain, my lord. But perhaps–”  


“You are foolish to believe so. I believe there is much you will learn from spending time among the humans, Apollo.”  


The younger god nodded and returned to his seat, cheeks burning with shame. There had been a note of finality in Zeus’s tone that had not encouraged him to speak further.  


“Anyone else?”  


“Yes,” said a quiet voice from the back of the room. It was Eros, the god of love.  


Zeus’s expression softened a little. “Come down here,” he said, gesturing for the other to approach.  


Eros nodded and glided to the front of the hall, his footfall light. He was not a young god. In fact, he was one of the oldest, older than Zeus himself. But he took a youthful form, with soft edges and a moonlike face.  


“May I–“  


“Proceed.”  


He turned toward the crowd. “You will not like what I have to say,” Eros began, almost nervous. “But I think it is worth hearing, if only because I have spent more time in the company of mortals than most gods.  


“I was born at the beginning of time. I witnessed the creation of the universe, and I will be here as long as the universe continues to exist. And although the gods are far more powerful than any earthly being…” He trailed off, glancing down at his feet with a shy expression.  


“Continue, Eros.”  


“…I believe that mortals experience emotions and sensations that we, as gods, cannot understand unless we live among them.”  


Apollo’s head snapped up, like a bowstring tightly pulled back.  


“What a ludicrous idea.”  


“It isn’t,” Eros countered.  


“Emotions that we can’t understand? Like what?”  


“Love,” he murmured, cheeks pinkening.  


“Oh.” Apollo gave a breathy chuckle. “You mean the silly infatuation humans feel when you poke them with one of your arrows?”  


Eros’s face had gone red. It was a strange look on him, with his dark hair and eyes like zeroes, so black that they almost looked hollow.  


“Do you think that just because you are a master archer, my arrows carry no weight?”  


“That’s exactly what I think. What is a child like you even doing with such powerful weapons? The bow and arrow are for hunting,” Apollo declared, glancing meaningfully around him. A murmur of approval rose up from the crowd.  


“I am not a child,” Eros protested.  


“Well, you act like one, with all this talk of human emotions. Perhaps you can provoke some love affairs between mortals, but you cannot claim my honors.” He adjusted the laurel wreath atop his head, a symbol of victory.  


“That is enough,” Zeus declared, staring him down.  


Apollo shrugged. After a moment, his gaze flicked back up to Zeus. “I will follow your decree, my lord, and perform my duties as a god while living among the mortals. I will learn their ways, if it pleases you. I will even take a mortal name. But it is below me to act like a human.”  


“Enough! This meeting has ended. Everyone, get out.”  


Eros was one of the last to leave the hall, his hands forming tight fists, fingernails digging into his palms as he watched the retreating figure of Apollo disappear into the crowd.  


“You will see,” he murmured. “You will see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 Could you tell which gods are which YOI characters? I tried to drop some hints for the less obvious ones. :3 You'll find out who is who when they each pick a human name.
> 
> A note: In this story, Eros and Apollo are not related. I'm using the origin myth from Hesiod's _Theogony_ , in which Eros is born at the dawn of the universe.
> 
> I'll write up more notes on the mythology as the story progresses! Meanwhile, [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/tolstoyevsky/playlist/71bLXqW2SxY9ETaY5sIxCS) is the Viktuuri playlist I listen to when writing this fic!
> 
> Next time: The gods pick human names, and Eros and Apollo meet down on earth.


	2. Book 1 – Eros Visits the Underworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, for enduring this long wait. I hope you enjoy the chapter. <3  
> Notes on the characters & mythology are at the end, as well as a question I have for you guys in re: future updates.

Now, as rosy-fingered Dawn hastened across the sky, Eros rose and left Olympus. He bound his sandals onto his feet, the only part of him that suggested mortality, for the rest of him looked unearthly – golden eyes, skin covered in black feathers, wings jutting out from his back. He traveled in bursts of light, yet the flapping of his wings, covered in the clay of life, left a smokelike trail in his wake. He swept down to earth in a cloud of brown dust and entered a cave by the river Styx. Walking for a while, Eros finally stopped at the edge of a hole that went deep into the ground. He peered over it and felt a warm wind blast him back, as if forbidding him to enter. He wrinkled his nose, stepping away; the air smelled too sweet. 

“I am the god Eros,” he called, “And I seek passage into the realm of the dead.” 

The whooshing ceased. Eros looked into the dark hole and saw that all was still. Taking a deep breath, he flew down to where the light no longer reached, wing beats echoing in the tunnel. 

Eventually, his feet found the ground again. Eros heard the nearby gurgling of a river – the Styx, underground. He followed it until he reached a small boat, tethered to a dock, floating serenely on the river surface. Someone was sitting on the bank, swishing an oar through the water. It was Charon, the ferryman of the dead. 

“Hello, brother.” 

The ferryman stared at the god, pretending not to recognize him. 

“Passage across the water?” 

“Do I get any benefit out of assisting you?” 

“Um–“ He reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a silver coin. “I have this.” 

The ferryman harrumphed, but took the fare. 

“Come along, then, brother.” 

Eros bowed his head in thanks. He stepped into the boat and sat down on a wooden seat at the stern. Charon stood, paddling down the river in long strokes. 

“Been a while.” 

It took a moment for the ferryman to realize that Eros was speaking to him. He, too, was an old being and had seen more creatures than he could count. But he and Eros had the same mother: Nyx, the goddess of night. 

“It has. I assume you’re here because of Zeus’s decree?” 

“Yes. I need to look at the record of names and choose a mortal name for myself.” 

The ferryman nodded. “Hm.” 

“Have you been well?” 

“Oh, as well as I can be,” Charon said, smacking his lips. “This isn’t exactly the sunniest of places to reside.” 

Eros surveyed the damp walls of the grotto and the inky blackness of the Styx, flowing beneath them. Cautiously, he reached over the side of the boat to dip his fingers in the river. 

“Don’t do that,” Charon snapped. 

Eros nearly yelped and withdrew his hand. 

“Honestly…” The ferryman sighed. “Don’t they teach you upperworld gods anything? You don’t go swimming in the rivers of hell.” 

“I only meant to feel the water–“ 

“Did you touch it?” 

“No,” he lied, wiping his left hand on his feathers before his brother could notice. 

Charon grunted. “Good. Strange things happen to those who do.” 

“L-like what?” 

“Bathe in the river Lethe, and you’ll lose your memory. Bathe in the Phlegethon, and it’ll boil your soul alive.” 

“What?” Eros demanded. “Are all the rivers like that?” 

Charon paused. “Well, no. Bathing in the Acheron will cleanse you of all sins.” 

“That sounds nice–“ 

“–Bathing in the Cocytus doesn’t do much, except Hades gets angry, because that’s where he likes to keep his personal boat.” 

“And the Styx?” 

“Whatever part of your body that touches the water becomes invulnerable to pain.” 

Eros cast his gaze down into the depths of the river. Oh. Yes. He remembered. Not long ago, there had been a human child whose mother had dipped him into the Styx when he was born. As a young man and a warrior, he was invincible – all but for the heel by which his mother had held him. He’d been shipped off to Troy, alongside many others in his generation. He never returned, felled by an arrow to the heel. But the Greeks remembered him as a great hero. 

“Like Achilles.” 

Charon glowered. “That reminds me. Another person I told to stay away from the Styx: his mother. That boy could have had a long, happy, uneventful life, but she had to go and dip him in the river. Her actions set in motion a chain of events that couldn’t be broken.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The gods foretold that Achilles would either live long in obscurity, or die young, but be remembered forever. Any warrior who thinks himself invulnerable will eventually be convinced to fight. His mother didn’t give him a choice, when she bathed him in the Styx. She decided that eternal glory was more worthwhile than the years of her son’s life.” Eros frowned. “Is it not?” 

“Not if you’re mortal,” Charon said, giving a rare smile. “You’ve been spending too much time on Olympus, haven’t you? Mortals don’t go to a nice place like that when they die; they spend eternity with Hades. Life on earth is their only chance at happiness, because let me tell you, It’s a far more beautiful place up there than it is down here.” 

Silence. Eros rested his chin on the back of his hand, thinking. He took a moment to gaze at his brother. Beside the wings and feathers covering Eros’ body, he and Charon looked similar: dark hair, red cheeks, and a small frame. But Charon’s features had something sharper about them, a hardness untempered by the luxury of life on Olympus. His eyes had dimmed from their original golden color to a deep brown. Eros wondered– if he were to switch places with Charon now, would he eventually look the same? 

The ferryman whistled as a tall door came into view, flanked on either side by columns of black marble. They had reached the gate to the underworld. Charon docked the boat at the small pier; then he cleared his throat, looking up at his passenger. 

“Brother.” 

Eros hesitated, one foot already on the dock. “Yes?” 

“If you wind up taking a different river out of here, and I don’t see you… Enjoy your time on earth. Do something worthwhile with it.” 

Eros smiled. 

“Thank you, Charon.” 

“Don’t thank me. Just do it.” 

“I will,” he said, turning his eyes toward the vast door. Though the air was thinner underground, he took a deep breath and started walking. 

“And if you see our mother again,” the ferryman called, “Tell her I want a new job!” 

~~~

Eros wasn’t surprised he had never visited hell before. It was like stepping into another world, a Greece without color. He’d thrown a scrap of meat to Cerberus, the hellhound at the gate, a three-headed creature with cat’s eyes, dog heads and snakes for fur. After that, it had followed him happily. He passed through the Asphodel Meadows, among shadowy figures that had once been human but now looked drained. Walking a little further, he saw two pools around which spirits flocked to drink. One was connected to a river. He remembered Charon’s words about the River Lethe, and how those who bathed in it would lose their memories. The other was surrounded by hooded figures in long, green robes, who whispered among one another and spoke of “the mysteries.” Some sort of cult. Eros did not press questions. Gradually, he arrived in the forecourt of the palace, where the three judges of the underworld sat. 

“Who are you?” asked the first judge, whose name was Minos. 

“You aren’t _dead_ ,” quipped the second judge, Aeacus. 

“Of course he isn’t,” said the third, Rhadamanthus. He looked down at Eros with a benevolent smile. “He’s a god.” 

“Yes,” Eros returned, rubbing the back of his neck and giving a laugh as he stared up at the three judges. “I am Eros, the god of love.” 

Rhadamanthos smiled. 

“Love?” Minos raised a brow. “Then we must definitely send him to Tartarus.” 

Aeacus cackled. “Come now, don’t be so harsh. He at least deserves a spot in the Asphodel Meadows.” 

“What? No, I’m here to see Lord Hades–“ 

“Don’t mind them,” Rhadamathos said, glaring at his brothers. “They’re bored because we haven’t had any interesting visitors since the Trojan War ended.” 

He floated down from his throne in one fluid motion, his cape pooling around his feet. As he hovered in the air, at eye level with Eros, the god realized that Rhadamanthos was much shorter than him, the size of a child. 

“Speaking of the war… I have heard you were a friend to Achilles.” 

Again he heard that name, the second time in a day. “Achilles? I never met him. Who told you that?” 

“He did, when we judged him.” 

He chuckled lowly. “I don’t think I did him many favors.” Eros hadn’t been directly responsible for the war, but he hadn’t stopped the other gods from waging it. In fact, he’d done their bidding. And that had lead to Achilles’ death. 

If the gods were permitted to mourn human deaths, Eros would have done so. He had liked Achilles. He remembered the exact moment when he’d struck both him and his comrade, Patroclus, with an arrow of love: summertime, years ago, in the groves on Mount Pelion. Theirs had been a story that would be told for ages. 

Eros had not gone with the other gods to Troy, years later. He had not wanted to see the lovers turn into killers, nor to see them killed. 

“You must have done something for him. He said that love had always been on his side.” 

“He is… Here?” 

Rhadamanthos nodded. “On Elysium, the Isle of the Blessed, where only the noblest of heroes go. He is there with Patroclus – who, apparently, is also indebted to you.” 

“You know more than I do.” 

Rhadamanthos shrugged. “People tell us their stories.” 

“And we’re gossips,” added Minos. 

“–Which is why you’re hearing this one,” Aeacus said with a grin. 

“In any case, you may proceed to the Palace of Hades. But do not spend much time down here. This is no place for you, god of love. Yours is a realm of life.” 

Eros nodded and continued into the palace, his stomach dropping. He entered the antechamber, its walls pink and wrinkly like an empty belly. Suddenly, Cerberus lurched into the throne room, snakes falling off his body and slithering across the floor. After a moment’s hesitation, Eros followed. His footsteps echoed as he walked across the cavernous hall. The air was warm and stifling; he could almost smell the shadows that filled the room. At the end, two stone thrones sat atop a dais, illuminated from above by a chandelier whose candles were partially blown out. The lord and lady of the house were absent. 

“Hello?” 

Cerberus quirked his many heads, confused, and looked up at Eros, who gave a small sigh as he sat down on the edge of the dais. Was Hades avoiding him? The hellhound nuzzled Eros’s leg, snakes nipping at his feathers. 

“Hey – Cerberus, stop that. Go find your master,” he said, pointing toward a nearby corridor. The creature seemed to understand and loped off in the direction Eros had indicated, soon swallowed up by the darkness. 

Eros rested his elbows on his knees, waiting. His right leg had started to jiggle – whether from the ticklish snakebites or nervousness, he couldn’t tell. Eros didn’t know Hades very well; the lord of the underworld rarely journeyed aboveground, unless he was called to the Council of the gods. From their few conversations, Eros had observed that Hades was of an evenhanded mind, and well disposed toward him. But many gods and goddesses were bitter with Eros after his speech at the council meeting, and he, whose thinking was sometimes muddled, worried that he might have also offended Hades. 

The sound of footsteps startled Eros out of his thoughts. Gathering himself, Eros stood up as a figure in a dark purple robe appeared before him. He was tall, with a crest of black hair, dark blue eyes, and a prominent chin. His face had the sort of pallor that came from spending too much time indoors. Cerberus trailed behind him, panting. 

“Lord Hades.” 

“Eros. Many gods have come to visit me as of late. I figured you would soon grace these halls with your presence as well.” 

“I am here to look at the record of names.” 

Hades smiled, an appraising look in his eyes. “All right,” he said, turning back toward the corridor. Cerberus followed instinctively; Eros did as well. 

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you.” 

Hades shook his head. “Think nothing of it. I see you have befriended my hellhound.” 

“Yes.” 

“He is an intelligent creature; he knows not to attack gods.” 

The corridor they walked along led deep into the palace, and Eros passed by doors through which he heard the sounds of fires crackling, waves crashing, grass blowing, hurricanes trundling across barren landscapes. 

“Those doors are shortcuts to the different realms of the underworld,” Hades said, with a sidelong glance at Eros. “You have never visited me before, have you?” 

“Oh – no,” murmured the god. “I never had a reason to.” 

Hades raised a brow, but without malice. 

“Um, what do you think of Lord Zeus’s decree?” 

“I think it is one of his better decisions. I regret that I am not participating.” 

“Really? Why did you bow out at the council meeting?” 

Hades cleared his throat, frowning. “As you know, my dear Persephone lives on earth for half the year, and with me for the other half. The moment she heard about the decree, she announced her intention to spend the entire year up there. So I can’t leave. Besides, someone needs to take care of this place and its inhabitants.” He threw a piece of meat to Cerberus, who nuzzled against his robe. 

Eros smiled, understanding. Even in hell, there was a space for love. 

“You see yourself as a caretaker for the dead.” 

“Someone has to be. Though it would be interesting to spend more time among the living. I do not get many visitors. Morpheus, he comes and goes… Zeus, when he wants something. 

Cerberus is my only permanent companion,” he murmured, petting the creature. 

Eros nodded, but he was distracted. He could not help but notice the way Hades’ robe sparked, as though cut from the fabric of the night sky. Perhaps it had been. 

“That is a beautiful material.” 

Hades bowed his head. 

“A gift from your mother. It is the sky at night,” he said, confirming Eros’s suspicions. “It was given to me when I became lord of the underworld.” 

“She delivered it personally?” 

“No, your brother Hypnos brought it. I am not permitted to look directly upon your mother’s face. Her majesty and terror would destroy even an Olympian god.” Hades gave him a knowing smile. “Except for you, child of Nyx.” 

Eros blushed deeply, wrapping his wings around himself. 

“I haven’t seen my mother in ages.” 

“It seems the ancient gods don’t usually make courtesy calls. I am pleased to receive one from you.” 

They soon reached the hall of records, a lofty room with shelf upon shelf of scrolls. Wooden ladders rose nearly to the ceiling, their steps covered in a thin coat of dust, save for the occasional footprint. Still, Eros marveled as he walked along the stacks. 

“These can’t all be records of names, can they? There’s history, botany, astronomy…” 

“A record of all we know,” intoned Hades. “The one you seek is there.” 

He pointed to the center of the room, where a large scroll lay unraveled upon a standing desk. Someone else was hunched over the document, his long fingers handling the parchment. A curtain of blond hair hid his expression. 

“I do have another visitor at present.” 

“Ah – that’s–“ 

Hearing voices, the figure glanced up, fixing them with an icy stare. He had the face of a young man in all his inexperience and immaturity. As soon as he saw Eros, he growled. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I-I’m–“ Eros stammered helplessly. The last person he’d expected to see was Hermes, messenger of the gods. 

“He’s here to look at the record of names. Be nice.” 

Hermes disregarded that and flew over to Eros, getting right in his face. 

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble. Zeus is making me deliver messages to all the gods, explaining that your fight with my stupid brother didn’t negate his decree–“ 

“It _didn’t_.” 

“Whatever,” Hermes snapped. “I’m wasting my time talking to you. Hey, Hades, I finished guiding the new souls to the afterlife.” 

“Thank you. No trouble, I hope?” 

“One guy complained because the judges of the dead sent him to Tartarus. I said that if he didn’t want to go, then he shouldn’t have tried to kill the king of Sparta.” 

Hades quirked a smile. “Sounds fair.” 

Eros took their burgeoning conversation as his cue to look through the book of names. He couldn’t help but cast a wary glance at Hermes from time to time. Right, he and Apollo were half-brothers. Eros frowned, thinking back to the council meeting. He did not often speak before the other gods and goddesses, and luck had not favored him that time. Images of Apollo flooded his mind: the god of archery looking down on him, his handsome face marred by a sneer. All Eros had felt was shame. Well, Apollo would get his comeuppance. That is, if Eros could find the courage. 

  
_Names_ – Γ  
_Georgios_ , meaning _farmer_.

“Did you hear what name Zeus picked?” Hermes was asking Hades. 

“Something awful, I’m sure.” 

“He’s going by “Leroy,” because it literally means “the king.”” 

“…Is he taking this seriously? What about Poseidon?” 

“He chose “Christophe” because it sounded cool.” 

  
_Names_ – T  
_Toshiyuki_ , meaning _genius_.

Hades snorted. “Between the lords of the sky and the sea, only the lord of the underworld does any real work.” 

Eros disregarded them and continued to flip through the book, his eyes flitting down the list of names. 

  
_Names_ – Y  
_Yeshua_ , meaning _god is salvation_.

_Yuuri_ , meaning _courage_.

“This one,” he whispered. Then he started walking back toward Hades. 

“And you? Have you chosen for yourself?” The lord of the underworld was asking Hermes. 

“Yes–“ 

“Lord Hades, I’ve chosen a name,” Eros declared. 

“Oh?” 

The messenger of the gods eyed Eros suspiciously. 

“Yuuri. It means “courage.”” 

“What?” Hermes shrieked. Cerberus yelped, loping off to hide behind his master. “Did you say “Yuri?” I just picked that name! I was just about to–” 

Eros blinked. “Can’t we both use it?” 

“Oh, no. I’m not getting mixed up with you and your escapades on earth. Knowing you, you’re going to raise hell up there.” 

Eros didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. 

“Let’s not raise hell,” Hades cut in. “How do you write this name, Eros? I need to keep a record of all the names chosen by the gods. Perhaps there is more than one spelling, in which case I can write down a different variant for each of you, and both of you could use it.” 

“It doesn’t matter how it’s spelled if it sounds the same! Everyone’s going to think I’m him!” Hermes yelled. 

“But you don’t look like me!” 

“Of course not! I’m not a little piggy!” 

Eros looked mildly outraged. 

“Why doesn’t one of you pick something slightly different?” Hades interrupted. “Hermes, you could be Yurius, or Yurio–“ 

“Yurio? That’s crap! Everyone will think I’m trying to be like my brother–“ 

“Apollo? Why, because there’s an ‘o’ at the end of it?” 

“Yeah!” 

“That’s inane. I’m putting you down as Yurio.” 

“…This is your fault, piggy.” 

Eros rolled his eyes. “I have feathers. Thus, not a pig.” 

“Well, apparently pigs can fly, now.” 

He was about to reply, but Hades shot out a hand. A piece of parchment and quill flew off a nearby desk, startling them both. 

“Sign here,” he instructed, proffering the parchment. It contained a list of the gods and goddesses bound by Zeus’s degree, and their chosen mortal names. Eros noticed that the space next to “Apollo” was blank for now. He looked down the list, finding his own name. Beside it, he carefully wrote “Yuuri,” before handing the quill and parchment back to Hades. 

“Congratulations, you’re now a mortal. In name, at least.” 

“Thank you, Lord Hades.” 

Hades gave a solemn nod. “You may go. Cerberus will escort you back to the gate. Thank you for the visit.” Then, with a sidelong look at Hermes: “Your turn, Yurio.” 

“I’m _not_ Yurio!” 

“Bye, Hermes,” Eros said awkwardly, as he turned to follow the hellhound. 

Hermes sighed. “What an annoying guy.” 

But Eros was no longer listening. Already, he felt buoyed by a strange power. Cerberus stopped outside the hall of records, looking from Eros to the dark corridor from whence they’d come. The god of love followed him without a word. Eros’s skin bristled, his feathers ruffling up as he flew through the corridor. It did not seem so dark anymore, and nor did the pain in his heart. He would now ascend to earth, and he would do so with courage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters so far:  
> Eros - Yuuri || Apollo - Viktor || Hermes - Yurio  
> Zeus - JJ || Poseidon - Chris || Hades - Georgi  
> Hera - Isabella  
> Persephone - Anya (she'll make an appearance in the future)  
> Charon - Seung-gil (thank you guys for reminding me about Seung-gil, because I was able to find a role that fit him :))  
> Cerberus - Makkachin (lmao I'm so sorry Makka)  
> The judges of the dead- the Nishigori triplets  
> Nyx - ??? (a beautiful effing mystery... for now)
> 
> ––– Those of you who guessed that Otabek was Hades were… Close to being right. In the original draft of the story, he was! Hades was going to travel to earth as well, because Zeus wanted him to find a queen to rule the Underworld with. But while writing this chapter, I realized that he would already have been living with Persephone ~~and I didn't want to make Yurio Persephone, but I want to keep the Otayuri dream alive~~. So I decided to give their roles to Georgi and Anya. Otabek has a new role now!
> 
> ––– The chapters are called "books" as a tribute to the way the ancient Epics were structured.
> 
> ––– Yes, there's a reason why Achilles is mentioned (besides the fact that I love him, ughhh).
> 
> ––– The other mortal names that Eros considers are the names of his voice actors (Josh/Yeshua and Toshiyuki). "Γ" is the Greek letter G. Also, did you know that Yuri and Georgi are both Russian variants of the name George? ~~Everyone is named Yuri~~
> 
>  **A question for you guys!** I'm trying to come up with a more regular update schedule; would you prefer 1) more frequent but shorter updates (more around 1k words), or 2) less frequent but longer updates (around the length of this chapter)?
> 
> Next time: a little interlude featuring a family tree.  
> I'd also like to do a **Q &A** with the characters, just for fun. Questions about the characters or the AU? Feel free to post in the comments.
> 
> As always, thank you <3 I have tons of work at college, which is why this chapter took a while, but being able to share this story with you means a lot to me.


	3. Interlude: Family Trees and Q&A

Hey everyone! This is Tol, the author of _Laurel_. I wanted to thank you guys for all the love on this fic, and for bearing with me while I work on it while getting through ~~the twelve labors of Hercules~~ college. 

[](http://s347.photobucket.com/user/Maria_Maier/media/giphy_zpseljy3div.gif.html)  


I'm really happy you're enjoying the story so far; there are exciting times ahead! :D But now, it’s time for a short interlude. First up...  


**Family Trees**

The family tree creator I used (familyecho.com) automatically makes boxes blue for male characters and pink for female characters. If the box is white, then the character is non-binary, transgender, or views him/herself as gender nonconforming. This is just in the context of this story; even so, feel free to interpret characters’ genders how you’d like.  


First up, **Eros’s fam** :)  


  
[](http://s347.photobucket.com/user/Maria_Maier/media/Screen%20Shot%202017-02-01%20at%204.08.07%20PM_zpsniz5khoa.png.html)   


– As you can see, Eros’s family is ancient. Weirdly enough, they aren’t the ancestors of the Olympian gods, who were born later from a separate group of beings called the titans.  


– Chaos is genderless, because space has no gender. XD The Greeks traditionally considered Chaos female.  


– Eros is male, but he doesn’t really identify with conventional notions of masculinity. ~~What are gender norms to an angel?~~  


**The Olympians** :  


  
[](http://s347.photobucket.com/user/Maria_Maier/media/Screen%20Shot%202017-02-02%20at%204.01.43%20PM_zpswrptiqhu.png.html)   


  
– Hestia is fine with being referred to as female, but prefers to think of herself as agender. (Some of you guys have mentioned this in the comments; she's also asexual.)  


– I forgot Demeter on the chart – she’s one of Zeus’s older siblings. In most retellings of the myths, she is also Persephone’s mother. But in this story, I chose an alternate retelling where Persephone’s mom is the goddess of the river Styx; it seemed more fitting.  


– Athena doesn’t have a mother; she is said to have sprung out of Zeus’s head.  


– Apparently, Zeus also fathered some nymphs. Not all of them, though – there are thousands!  


\- Zeus is everyone's dad. *cringe*  


– I recently found out that Dionysus is the patron god of transgender and intersex people. You can view him as either, in this story.  


And now for ~~more Zeus~~ **Achilles and Patroclus**!  


  
[](http://s61.photobucket.com/user/Tolstoyevsky/media/Screen%20Shot%202017-02-01%20at%204.23.52%20PM_zpssyjd0dsi.png.html)  


  
– They are cousins once-removed, but were raised as friends. Patroclus is older than Achilles, but not a whole generation older, only by a few years. I think a lot of time passed between Angina’s relationship with Zeus and later with Actor.  


– Myths around the Trojan War actually depict Achilles as less of a macho man than you'd expect, given that he's such a renowned warrior. In certain ways, his gender could be perceived as fluid. When the war breaks out, he disguises himself as a woman and hides at the court of the king of Skyros, to avoid having to fight. He also has interests that the Greeks perceived as feminine, like playing the lyre and singing. Patroclus is also often described as feminine because he is a caregiving figure, but I think he considers himself firmly male; he’s just not a bro, either XD  


**Q &A!**

  
I collected the questions that people have left in the comments section; here are the answers ^^

 **Who the heck is Phichit?** This is by far the most frequent question I’ve gotten. You guys sure do love Phichit! (Me too.) He’s a god but not an Olympian. He won’t show up until a little while into the story, but you’ll know him when you see him. ~~He will come out in full Phichit On Ice costume, surrounded by hamsters~~

 **Have you read Ovid/ Homer’s _Iliad_ / _The Song of Achilles_ by Madeline Miller?** Yes, YES, yessss.  
Ovid is the source material for this version of the Apollo and Daphne myth! Check out _The Metamorphoses_.  
Most of the information about Achilles in the story is inspired from the _Iliad_.  
I have also read TSOA, and I loved it.  
Please geek out with me about any of these books/ people!!!

 **Will there be sports? Specifically skating?** There will be sports! There is also a skating scene, but the skating motif itself isn’t a big part of the story (other sports are more important).

 **Does Eros have one or two types of magical arrows?** He has two. The backstory behind this is that there are different versions of the Apollo and Daphne myth. In some of them, Eros only has a golden arrow that makes a person fall in love with the first creature they see. In others (and I think this is the more common version), he also has an iron arrow that makes a person hate the first creature they see. Ominous…

[ ](http://s347.photobucket.com/user/Maria_Maier/media/tumblr_of68vl8GVI1r6i5keo2_500_zpspwmgxskm.gif.html)

**Are the gods and goddesses going to all hang out on earth?** Technically, they aren’t allowed to reveal that they’re immortal – so even if one god would have suspicions about a “mortal” being a goddess, he couldn’t ask or disclose his own identity. Most of the immortals stick to this rule, because they’re afraid of Zeus kicking their butts. Some of them find out about each other by accident or over time, in which case they may stay together. Zeus himself spends time with Hera and Hermes, when he isn’t busy cavorting about the countryside.

 **Is Yuuri going to fall in love with Viktor first, or vice-versa?** I can’t answer this one without spoiling the story, but you will definitely get an answer.

 **Does Eros have an impenetrable hand now, because he dipped it in the river Styx?**  
I mean, technically, that is what happens when people bathe in the Styx… It’s always happened before, but this is the first time a god has touched the waters of the river… So who knows?

Last but not least, Katieloo442 and ayaMASO had questions for Apollo  <3 I tried my best at drawing Viktor for y'all. I do not have a scanner or photoshop, though, so putting this together took some Preview wizardry XD 

  
[](http://s347.photobucket.com/user/Maria_Maier/media/Screen%20Shot%202017-02-04%20at%206.14.09%20PM_zps0xrey5zb.png.html)  
  


I had a sketch of Yuuri, too, but it disappeared... Will upload it when I find it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3 Hope this was helpful and fun!  
> Next time: New characters are introduced, and Eros finds a place to live on earth.


	4. Book 2 – The Scherians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri rescues three hunters and returns home with them to the island of Scheria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again? ~~Shady's back, tell a friend~~
> 
> Hi everyone! Thank you SO MUCH for sticking with this story during its super long hiatus! Homework, grad school apps and the busyness of life in general kicked my butt, and I had writer's block for a while. But I'm determined to stick with this story, and _Laurel_ is here to stay! Update times will be variable, but much more frequent. I really appreciate all the love you've given this story so far, and I'm so excited to keep going on this journey with y'all.  <3 Please leave a comment/kudos if you're enjoying the fic. I love hearing what you guys think!
> 
> If you're reading this story for the first time, I'd say start at the beginning; the first few chapters are not too long. :) Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Notes about the mythology in this chapter are at the bottom.

The people of Scheria were not hunters by trade. They lived on an island adrift in the Great Sea, and for generations, the main had given them what they needed. They bathed in the sea, washed their clothes in the warm waters, and gathered the bounty of the deep for their dining halls. With their ships, which were steered by thought, they had charted the world. The Scherians had made a name for themselves as sailors, their vessels faster than falcons and more steadfast than the stars. 

They had never expected the waters around their island to grow barren. 

It happened suddenly – like a flash of lightning striking the ground. One day, the fishermen made a big catch. The next, they could not find a single grouper. They sailed into deeper waters; for a few days, they had luck, but sooner rather than later, they cast their nets and found them coming up empty. 

As far as Scheria lay from the mainland, there were still deer and wild boar in the woodland mountains. But the Scherians revered their forest; it was a gift from the heavens, a green paradise. What if the gods grew angry at how they treated it? The Scherians would not hunt their game if they could help it. So they sailed to the mainland and made for the forests of Epirus, hoping for the best. 

They hunted in groups of three. One man was not enough to take on a wild boar, and two were not enough to guard against bandits. Three was a perfect number: one to kill the boar, one to guard the first man, and one to make sure they wouldn’t all get knifed on the way back. 

“Why do I have to shoot the boar?” Hissed Michalis, the first hunter. He was a young man, tall and swarthy, mouth twisted in a grimace. He and the others crouched in the underbrush, readying their bows and arrows. In the clearing ahead, a wild boar was snuffling at the ground, unaware of their presence. 

“Because you’re the scariest, Michel,” reasoned Emilios. “The boar will take one look at you and drop dead.” 

Michalis glared at him. 

“I don’t _want_ it to look at me, Emil–“ 

Leontios, the third man, put a hand on his shoulder. 

“You need to shoot it because you have the best aim. Now, come on. The faster we get this over with, the faster we can get back to Scheria.” 

“I’ll get its attention,” Emilios whispered, before leaping into the clearing. 

“No, wait–!” 

It did not take long for the Scherians to realize they needed a fourth man. 

~~~

From the mouth of a cave along the river Acheron, a young man stepped into the light. 

He glanced around, then up at the sky, covering his eyes at the sight of the burning sun. Eros had not been a mortal for long – about a day, by their time – yet he’d already grown into his new form. He was not tall, but had an athlete’s build, with lean muscle beneath his tan skin. His eyes had lightened to a shade of brown, and his dark hair curled around the nape of his neck. There was a familiar softness to his face, but he wore it well, as a youth of twenty-three. 

He carried a bow and arrow, the first tools he’d fashioned after leaving the underworld. If Zeus wanted the gods to carry out their duties while living as mortals, he’d do it. 

_And perhaps_ , he thought with a smile, _I’ll learn some new tricks as well_. 

Apollo had said that the bow and arrow were for hunting; he’d called Eros a child before the council of the gods and claimed that his work was worth nothing. But Eros knew better. He was older than the ground beneath his feet and the sun that warmed his skin. He’d been there when the universe was nothing more than a pinprick of expanding heat. Time had unfurled before his eyes, and his powers were born along with it. Before the universe saw light, it already knew love. Why should one god’s scorn matter to him? But a churning feeling filled his gut, and he knew that logic wasn’t enough to make him forget. 

Eros yawned softly as he stretched his arms and began to walk toward the forest. His stomach growled again, this time from hunger. Hunting couldn’t be too difficult, right? The woods of Epirus were filled with game, and he wasn’t unskilled. After all, love was a hunt of its own, and Eros had good aim. 

Holding his bow by the handle, he moved steadily through the forest. The trees stood still as sentinels, their boughs reaching for the morning light. After a while, he passed over a stone arch bridge that merchants and travellers used to navigate the forest. Slowly, he made his way into the deep wilderness. 

That was when Eros – Yuuri– heard a strange noise. Shouting, he realized. 

“Emil, you fool!” 

“I thought you were going to do something, not just stand there!” 

Voices broke through the stillness of the forest. Yuuri hid behind a tree, not wanting to draw the men’s attention. He heard the _thwip_ of an arrow, but from the way the sound died, he could tell it did not land true. Craning his head, he spotted the men: a hunting party chasing after a wild boar. The boar had ducked its head, still charging after them. 

“Good try, Leontios!” The man named Emil hollered and clapped his hands. 

“Don’t talk, just keep running!” 

Yuuri pursed his lips, confused. It looked like the animal was the one doing the chasing. 

“If we get out of this alive, you’re dead!” 

“Hey, don’t be like that, Michel–“ 

Reaching for his arrow, Yuuri placed it on the bow and drew it back. This was the only arrow he had at the moment, but he realized that if he didn’t act, the men were done for. His eyes tracked the boar, to see where it would move next. Lining up a shot, he let the arrow fly. 

It struck the boar’s side, and the creature shrieked. The men had stopped running, gazing at Yuuri with wide eyes. 

“Don’t wait! Shoot it again–“ 

They nodded and let loose a volley of arrows. Stamping its feet, the boar rolled over onto its side and went still. 

“That was… Probably more than enough,” he murmured, with a wary chuckle. 

As he emerged from his hiding place, he noticed the men stalk forward. 

“I-I won’t take it. I’m just getting my arrow.” 

Their eyes flicked between Yuuri and the kill. Eventually, the men nodded. 

“You have saved our lives,” Emilios said. “Thank you.” 

Yuuri walked over to loose the arrow from the creature’s flesh. He tucked it into the holster he had slung around one shoulder. 

“It’s no problem. I was hunting by myself, but I heard you shouting and thought I could help.” 

“And you did,” said a russet-haired man. He extended a hand to help Yuuri up. “I am Leontios. My hunting partners, Michalis and Emilios.” He gestured to each of them in turn. “What is your name?” 

“Yuuri.” 

“Is that a foreign name? Where are you from, traveler?” Michalis asked. 

Yuuri did not hesitate. He’d prepared for questions like this. 

“A distant land, beyond even llium. I have come to learn the ways of the Achaeans, who I’ve heard are very skilled and wise.” 

“You speak the language well,” said Emil. 

“I have traveled across Greece for a few years now; people have been kind enough to teach me. Will you permit me to earn a living as a bowmaker in your city?” 

Michalis’ purple eyes flashed suspiciously. 

“We are not _of_ a city. We are Scherians, and our island is facing hardship–” 

“Hardship that would be much alleviated by good weapons for our hunters,” Leontios cut in, smiling pleasantly. 

“It would only be for a short time,” Yuuri amended. “I do not wish to burden you.” 

The men convened, exchanging whispers. Yuuri could tell that Michalis would be the most difficult to convince. But Yuuri had no hidden motives. He only wanted to see what these mortals could teach him. In fact, he knew very little about Scheria, only that the King of Ithaca had washed up on the island during his long journey home from Troy. 

In the meantime, the Scherians were still murmuring among themselves. 

“By the Gods, Michel, he saved our lives–“ 

“Fine, _fine_!” 

When the men finally turned back to Yuuri, he knew the answer was yes. Leontios stepped forward, clapping Yuuri on the back. 

“We will bring your request to our ruler, Princess Nausicaä. Sail with us, traveler.” 

~~~

The return trip to Scheria passed quickly. Leontios steered the craft, though it had no helm. Yuuri was amazed to realize that the ship moved according to its navigator’s thoughts, so it would always bring the travelers to their awaited destination. Yuuri had never journeyed on a ship so fast before. The Scherian craft bounded forth like a chariot led by invisible horses, leaping across the waves as though they were mere molehills. It made him think of Hermes, the fleet-footed messenger of the gods, moving on the wind. A beautiful thought, even though Yuuri hoped he wouldn’t encounter Hermes while living among the mortals. It probably wasn’t a good idea that they had chosen almost the same name for themselves, but there was no changing that now. 

Besides, the new company Yuuri kept was more pleasant. Leontios had a warm, booming laugh, Emilios a youthful naiveté. Michalis was loyal to them, at least. They made a strange group, but each of them balanced out the others. Yuuri settled back into his seat, watching the ocean grow wider and wider. 

“We’re here,” Leontios said eventually. They were nearing the island, a patch of green with craggy mountains that arched toward one another, a steel-plated shield. The men docked the boat in a harbor filled with ships, some more impressive than their own. The largest triremes glowed in the midmorning light. Yuuri’s mouth fell open at the sight of them. Who had ever claimed that man’s creations could not be as beautiful as the gods’? 

“Never seen a ship before?” Emil quipped, nudging Yuuri. 

“I have,” he said, as they walked up the hill that led to the palace. “Just not one like that. Is it a warship?” 

Emil laughed. “Oh, no! The Scherians don’t wage war.” 

“Not at all?” 

“Well, we did not go to Troy. Granted, there was no suitor from this island who asked for Helen’s hand in marriage. So we did not need to go.” 

Yuuri nodded. He remembered the war as if it had begun yesterday. Only Helen’s suitors, in exchange for the privilege to court her, were bound by duty to protect her from danger. After Paris of Troy spirited her away, a thousand ships sailed to the city to bring her back. Only five returned. 

“No Scherian would have entered into a courtship agreement that required him to go to war to defend a woman’s virtue,” Michalis grumbled. 

That gave Yuuri pause. Even on Mount Olympus, a goddess’ word could be disregarded, but Yuuri made no such distinction. The virtue of women and the honor of men were two sides of the same coin, and often interchangeable. 

“You don’t value the virtue of women?” 

“What Michalis means to say,” Leontios added, “is that a Scherian would not have put Helen above the safety of his own people. We think it nobler to avoid bloody wars.” 

“It is how we have stayed safe for generations,” said Emil. 

Finally, they reached the palace. Yuuri could not have taken it for anything else: the golden gates; the bronze walls that shone like the sun; the statues of watchdogs, silver and gold, that flanked the palace door. Yuuri passed through a garden with pear, apple, and pomegranate trees. He thought of how Persephone had eaten the pomegranates that grew in the underworld, and Yuuri wondered if he had come to this island to taste the fruits of life. 

Inside the throne hall, golden statues carried torches that lit the room. Yuuri followed the other men to the far end, where a young woman sat upon the throne. 

“Princess Nausicaä of Scheria!” 

The princess did not look much older than Yuuri did in his human form. She had amber eyes and a heart-shaped face, and her auburn hair was pulled up into a bun that rested just above the crown of her head. 

He recognized her instantly. 

Years ago, Eros had pricked the heart of the Scherian princess who rescued the King of Ithaca. Her love had not been too deep, just the infatuation of a young, impressionable girl. When the king left the island, her heartache was but a surface wound. Yet Eros had wondered if he would ever see the princess again. Here she was: now a ruler, and still beautiful. 

Leontios introduced Yuuri and presented the wild boar to the princess. 

“Yuuri of Nihon, Your Highness. He helped us bring this game to Scheria, and we owe him a debt of gratitude for his aid in killing the animal. Without him, we would not have returned home.” 

“A foreigner,” she murmured, resting her elbows on her knees. “We have not had a guest on this island in years. The last visitor to arrive here was Odysseus, the king of Ithaca.” 

“Is my presence here unwelcome?” Yuuri asked. 

The princess smiled and shook her head. 

“Merely surprising.” She turned back to the hunters, who stood proudly beside Yuuri. “Leontios, you say this man saved your life?” 

“Yes, my lady.” 

Nausicaä’s eyes twinkled with mirth. 

“Then we must hold a banquet tonight.” 

~~~

Yuuri hadn’t expected to be so warmly received on Scheria. Nausicaä gave him a room in the palace, and Emilios spent the rest of the day showing him around the city. When night fell, Yuuri returned to help the princess prepare for the banquet. As they brought candles onto the balcony and looked out at the sea, Yuuri felt at ease, as though he were standing beside an old friend. 

“You were staring at me a moment ago,” Nausicaä observed. “Why?” 

“You’re very beautiful,” Yuuri admitted. He’d always had a habit of being more honest at night. When the world around him fell into shadow, his secrets came to light. 

“Oh! I – thank you,” she said, disarmed. “I’m afraid you must know, though, that I am not seeking a courtship.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widened. 

“No, no, I – I wasn’t asking for one! I’ve just never met a princess in person before. I’m… A little stunned.” 

Nausicaä gave a belly laugh and patted him on the back. 

“You’re charming! I fell in love with a foreigner once; did you know? The King of Ithaca. He was respectful and handsome, but already spoken for. And far, far beyond me!” 

She swept out her hands, gesturing to the ocean. “Leagues beyond! Have you ever loved someone like that?” 

“I… Don’t know.” 

Nausicaä tilted her head toward him, as if gesturing for Yuuri to go on. 

“I don’t know whether he’s leagues beyond me,” Yuuri found himself saying. As soon as the words came out, he clasped his hand over his mouth. “I – it’s not love,” he amended. “It’s not anything.” 

“A man.” She smiled. “Someone you met at a Symposion?” 

“No.” 

“A childhood friend, then? From your… School?” She used the Greek word, _gymnasium_ , but Yuuri could tell there was hesitancy in her voice. She didn’t know if they had the same sort of schooling, where he came from. He couldn’t help but chuckle; sometimes it seemed as though the Olympian Gods had no schooling at all. 

Nausicaä noticed the little laugh and leapt on it. 

“I’m right,” she said, beaming. 

“Not a school friend,” Yuuri corrected, “But someone I’ve known for a long time, yes.” 

“…I see.” 

“He is arrogant, and stubborn, and distant – but also talented, and determined, and he does mean well, in his stupid way–“ 

Nausicaä nodded speculatively. “Sounds to me like you’re leagues beyond _him_.” 

Yuuri’s lips parted in surprise. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes trained on the tiled floor of the balcony. 

“Where I come from, no one would say that.” 

“Is he handsome?” 

Yuuri glanced up at her. 

“O-of course.” 

Nausicaä grinned wickedly. “Say, who’s more experienced?” 

“I won’t answer that,” he murmured, though he’d started to smile. Yuuri found that the more time he spent in Nausicaä’s company, the more he liked her. “I have never met a woman like you before.” _Not a mortal woman_ , Yuuri was about to add, but he caught himself. 

“Well, Scheria is a strange place. We have boats that fly, men who serve as oracles, and women who rule.” 

“An advanced civilization.” 

She smiled sadly. “Of course, we have men who keep their women inside. We are not as open-minded as you’d like to believe.” 

Yuuri thought on that. He was still, gazing out at the ocean, dark eyes illuminated by the scant moonlight. 

“Some… People, they see flaws in their society and don’t do anything to change it. This doesn’t seem like that kind of place. It’s probably because you’re making an effort to change it.” 

“I should hope so!” Nausicaä grinned. “But you ought to know, there is something special about Scheria.” 

Yuuri turned to her, tilting his head. Something special? A lone island adrift in the sea, shadowy mountains that looked like a shield rising from the deep… Ships steered by the Scherians’ thoughts, and faster than birds of prey… 

“Our island was blessed by Pallas Athena, long ago. The elders say she descends to walk among us, sometimes.” 

Athena! So that was why Yuuri felt so comfortable on this island; divine magic had already blessed Scheria. Yuuri didn’t know if his arrival here would complicate things; he was friendly with Athena, but perhaps she wouldn’t appreciate his presence in one of her patron lands. 

He was still mulling over the issue when Nausicaä coughed lightly. 

“The blood of the gods flows through you.” 

Eros stilled. The hairs on his arms bristled as he turned to the princess, who was watching him with an intent gaze. 

“Why do you say that?” 

“It’s just something in the way you move. I can’t describe it, exactly; I only know because I’ve seen it before, within the Scherian royal family. My father walked the way you do. I suppose I might, too. The lord Poseidon is our ancestor.” 

“Ah! Then your island is twice beloved.” 

“And you? Which of the immortals began your family line?” 

Yuuri gritted his teeth. Zeus forbade the gods from revealing their identities to the mortals. 

“I wish I knew.” 

“It does not matter,” she said, waving her hand. It was a dismissal, but also a consolation. “If you would like to stay here with us, you may. This island needs a good bowmaker.” 

He shook hands with the princess – a sign that they were equals, that neither would confront the other with trickery or weapons. 

So it became that Yuuri joined the people of Scheria. 

And for a while, he forgot all about Apollo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri may have forgotten, but I have not. XD Viktor shows up next chapter!
> 
> New characters: Leontios, Emilios, and Michalis are obviously Leo, Emil and Michele. XD  
> Nausicaä is Yuuko. <3
> 
> Scheria (pronounced SCARE-ee-ah), also called Phaeacia, shows up in Homer's _Odyssey_! It's the last stop on Odysseus' long trip home, which is briefly discussed in this chapter. The _Odyssey_ talks about the Scherian ships and palace, as well as the fact that the island was not involved in the Trojan War. The Scherian royal family is canonically descended from Poseidon.
> 
> Epirus is a mountainous, forested region in northwestern Greece. It's the location of the Acheron river, which the ancient Greeks believed led to the Underworld. There are also lots of stone arch bridges that the Greeks used to get around!
> 
> Ilium is another name for Troy! They're used interchangeably :)
> 
> Athena is not the patron goddess of Scheria; I added that because in the _Odyssey_ , she travels there in disguise to protect Odysseus.
> 
> Yuuri says he's from Nihon because that's the Japanese word for Japan. XD He had to pick somewhere, right?
> 
> In the _Odyssey_ , Nausicaä does fall in love with Odysseus. But he has to get home to his wife Penelope, who's been waiting for a frickin' decade ~~what a champ~~. We don't know what happens to Nausicaä after that, except that she later marries Odysseus' son, Telemachus. In this story, I'm assuming she hasn't met him yet, and is just living her life as the badass princess of Scheria.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Tumblr: [tolstoyevskywrites](http://tolstoyevskywrites.tumblr.com)  
> [Here](https://open.spotify.com/user/tolstoyevsky/playlist/71bLXqW2SxY9ETaY5sIxCS) is the Viktuuri playlist I listen to when writing this fic.  
> Other Spotify playlists: [Otayuri](https://open.spotify.com/user/tolstoyevsky/playlist/5i3uGBrwu9gfB9ynaOjiay) || [YOI/Viktuuri](https://open.spotify.com/user/tolstoyevsky/playlist/7dtTAAISDjCfEjYoOV8IiU)  
> 8tracks playlists (different from the Spotify ones): [here](http://8tracks.com/airini/collections/yuri-on-ice-playlists)  
> My other YOI fics: [Autotēles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15351237/chapters/35620935) || [ Someone Tell the Referee to Stop Calling Out My Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15111506/chapters/35040203) || [Stargazing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801836/chapters/31732521) || [The Adventures of Russian Tiger Yuri Plisetsky and His Lovestruck Not-Coach](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8790199/chapters/20151052) || [Otayuri Oneshots](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9341738/chapters/21166439) || [Breathe Easy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851813)


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